


On Elba

by appleapple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, Angst, Canon, Canon Era, First Time, Isolation, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleapple/pseuds/appleapple
Summary: They took Eren out of the airship blindfolded.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 74
Kudos: 479
Collections: Essential_ereri





	On Elba

**Author's Note:**

> Oh HEY GUYS I'M BACK. All it took was the goddamn APOCALYPSE to get me to WRITE SOMETHING and FINISH A STORY* and LOOK IT'S EVEN COMPLETE (Though if you want a 1a missing scene...I'm open to negotiations).
> 
> For the record, I was writing this story about isolation and social distancing before it was cool 😬 No really, I started this back in the fall or something. WHEN SHOPPING MALLS WERE STILL OPEN. YOU GUYS REMEMBER THAT?
> 
> So if you were waiting for a story about losing your shit and getting it back together in quarantine, here you go.
> 
> This is inspired by the most recent Attack on Titan chapters (124-127ish? something like that?) but I know whatever imaginings I have are going to be crumpled up and tossed so it deviates from canon there. Spoilery, but I'm not getting very specific. Canon is loosely providing the set up here.
> 
> *Lest you think I am sitting at home, with plenty of free time to write...no, no I am not 😭 I am still working at my regular not-from-home job, still taking care of my regular children by my regular self. Free time at a premium 😓 I really wanted to get this posted though (for reasons that will become apparent!) so I worked hard at getting it finished. Stay safe, guys!

They took Eren out of the airship blindfolded. He was bound at the wrists and he stumbled a little when his feet touched the ground. He turned his head--blindly looking left, right. Licking his lips. Tasting the salt air, maybe. Levi stood nearby, the breeze fluttering his hair and his cloak a little. 

Levi nodded to Jean who nodded back grimly. Then the airship was floating up and into the sky. When it was gone, no longer even a black speck on the unbroken horizon he cut the ropes on Eren’s wrists and tugged up the blindfold.

Eren glared at him, rubbing his wrists in an exaggerated way. Levi ignored him, striding forward to the main building.

“Hey!” Eren called, outraged. He didn’t answer, and after a moment he heard Eren running after him.

“Where are we? What is this place?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Levi asked. He pushed open the enormous oak door. It was brand new, and it glided inward on silent hinges. They hadn’t bothered with a lock, but it could be barred from the inside. 

Eren was staring at him, mutinous and mute with rage. He wasn’t stupid. “It’s a prison,” he said in a low furious voice.

“If you like,” Levi said. He began walking up the stairs to the second floor. “Though ‘sanctuary’ might be more apt.”

“You can sleep in here,” Levi said, pushing open another brand new door. When he’d first visited the place, with Hanji and Jean and Armin and Mikasa, it had been an impressive ruin. The doors and windows were all gone; it hadn’t been occupied in hundreds of years, and anything made of wood had rotted away long ago. But the stones were sound. The castle had been built to last.

They’d had to make several trips to get it into usable shape; that first time they’d left out barrels and when they’d returned Levi had been surprised by how much they’d filled. It rained here often. They’d used the water to start scrubbing out the dirt and salt that had been carried in; it hadn’t been enough, but they’d kept coming back--to clean and repair, and finally to replace the missing doors and windows.

Today, on this last trip Hanji had preceded them by a few hours in another airship. She’d left the supplies--food and tools and some furniture. Not much yet, but they had already determined the next rendezvous. It was enough to make a beginning.

“It needs to be cleaned again,” Levi said, giving the room a critical onceover. Dust seemed to have settled in already. “Before you put the bed together.” The wooden slats and pegs and rope were stacked neatly beside the window, a sack containing linens beside it. There was a simple chair, another bag containing Eren’s clothes, a washbasin and ewer. That was all.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Suit yourself,” Levi replied. He went to his own room and began to clean. 

Eren had locked himself into the room--well, closed the door. There weren’t any locks. Levi had been making trips up and down the stairs all afternoon. He’d mopped his own floor and hung up the tapestries Hanji had left, to cover the rough stone walls. She had been rather less austere about his own furnishings.

She hadn’t been entirely happy to leave him here.

His bed had been built already, and he’d made it up, tucking the sheets in neatly at the corners, smoothing out the blanket. He wasn’t displeased with the room. Going down the stairs again he missed his footing and was surprised when he fell--heavily--on his tailbone.

He stared up. He wasn’t injured, he determined after a moment. But he felt dazed, though he hadn’t hit his head.

He heard a quiet click behind him. “What are you doing?” Eren said gruffly, trying not to sound concerned. Then, after a moment, more in disbelief than worry: “Did you _trip?”_

“Help me up,” Levi said, in his own not-terribly-concerned voice. After a moment’s hesitation Eren did, coming halfway down the stairs and pulling him to his feet. He hovered nearby. The staircase was wide enough that he didn’t need to stand so close.

Levi put a hand on the wall and moved his leg, the bad one, experimentally. No. Not too bad. But that was enough for today. He would have to live with a little dirt for now.

Eren was watching him, glumly reflective. He had seen the still healing scabs and scars on Levi’s body, though he hadn’t commented on them. Hadn’t asked. He wasn’t stupid. By now, he had to have figured out some version of what had happened.

Levi continued down the stairs and into the kitchen. Here Hanji hadn’t bothered to put anything away--there were just sacks of potatoes and rice and pickle jars and wheels of cheese willy-nilly. He sighed. He couldn’t leave it like this. He’d spent too much time on his room; he ought to have checked the rest of the building first.

He rubbed his leg absently, wondering if there was a loaf of bread anywhere. He hadn’t eaten since the morning, and they’d left before dawn.

There was a thump behind him. He turned his head, only faintly surprised. Eren had brought down the chair from his own room.

There was a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks, and he wouldn’t meet Levi’s eyes. “Sit,” he said, still in that gruff voice. He picked up a wheel of cheese, hefting it easily in his arms. “Where do you want this?”

There was a stove, and firewood, and after Eren had put the provisions away under Levi’s direction, mostly into the cold shelf-lined pantry, he lit a fire and waited for it to heat enough that he could use the range. Levi wouldn’t have bothered, but Eren wanted hot food; he made them scrambled eggs, toasted bread and cheese, then sliced up pickles. 

There was a table in the kitchen, but Hanji had neglected to bring chairs for it--they had been in a hurry, and space in the airship had been limited. Eren went and fetched the other one from Levi’s room, and they ate together in silence.

“It’s an island?” Eren asked abruptly. He had finished his eggs.

Levi nodded, still eating. Eren stared at his plate.

“How far from--”

“Far enough.”

They didn’t say anything else.

He went back up to his room and stretched out in the bed. The sun was still up, and would be for hours. It felt decadent, after the last few months he’d had, and he fell asleep immediately. For the first time in years there was no pressing worry, no immediate crisis.

He was still asleep when Eren woke him, touching him gently on the shoulder. He opened his eyes. Eren was looking at him oddly.

“I made soup,” he said, and Levi was surprised and even touched; he hadn’t wasted the fuel after heating up the stove. Perhaps some of the old training had stuck with him after all.

He got up, shivering out of the blankets, though it wasn’t that cold. Eren was still hovering nearby.

He looked around blearily for his clothes, and finally found them, pulling out a thick oversized sweater. It was new--half his clothes were new, awkwardly thrust upon him by Hanji before she’d left. It was astonishingly warm. He stopped shivering at once. _Bless you Hanji,_ he thought and meant it. _You think of everything._

Eren was still watching him. “I explored the island,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Not all of it. Not yet. But it’s not that big.” He sounded resigned.

“No,” Levi agreed. 

The soup wasn’t bad; Eren had done a good inventory of what they had, and he’d made enough to last the next day. It was dusk when they finished eating, the rest of the loaf Eren had cut into at lunch, and some cold cheese too.

Levi walked down to the shore with the dirty bowls in a bucket. Better to wash them in salt water first, preserve the fresh. Eren tagged along behind him.

“There’s more bread,” Eren said suddenly. “But it won’t last after tomorrow without going stale.”

“We can use it for soup,” Levi replied. He was crouched by the water’s edge, rinsing the bowls. The ocean was less alarming now than it once had been. “Crackers, I guess.”

“We’ll have to make more.”

“Mm.”

He was a little surprised, to hear Eren talking as if this were only some ordinary mission. Just your regular run of the mill survey corp business, yes sir, not a secret operation imprisoning a war criminal on a deserted island. As if the last few years hadn’t happened at all. He was tempted to shake his head, but resisted.

“I don’t know if I remember how,” Eren said. “It’s...been a long time.”

“Well,” Levi said. “It will come back to you.”

He knew Eren was trying to find a way to escape. He would have been suspicious if Eren _hadn’t_ been trying to escape. But there wasn’t any way off the island--Eren could build a boat, if he liked, but he’d never reach land. Levi didn’t bother himself over Eren’s comings and goings. 

He was tired. He was like some dumb animal that had been worked almost to death by indifferent masters; he hadn’t been at all recovered from his wounds when they’d asked him to take down Eren, Eren with all the goddamn powers of the Titans behind him. He’d done it, and then he’d been in bed for a week, sick and shaking and nearly dead until someone had come and told him what they were going to do to Eren. _Then_ he’d had to stumble from his sick bed to go and beg for Eren’s life---

He didn’t know why, at this point. Force of habit maybe. He’d spent what felt like half his life trying to keep Eren alive. The others hadn’t spoken for him, not even Mikasa. That had been shocking at first, but he’d had time to mull it over these last few weeks. They were young. Eren’s betrayal meant something to them. It wasn’t that it didn’t to him, but…

Love wasn’t a simple yes or no; people weren’t friends or enemies. People did good things and bad things, and most of the time they thought they were doing the right thing, even if they were doing terrible things.

You could love people--and even if they loved you back they could still betray you. Death didn’t solve anything. 

He hadn’t lost his anger at Erwin after all these years, and _hell_ he still missed Kenny if he was honest. Butchers and murderers and betrayers and liars; that’s what they were. Slaughterers of untold innocents. Their sacrifices had also brought him here, had helped him to save Eren’s life and countless others. That was a bitter cordial, but one he could acknowledge honestly. He understood. Or at least he thought he did.

But it had been a hard road getting here, and he was tired. It was time to rest, or time to die; there was no in between. Maybe some day he could be an able lieutenant to Hanji again, but right now that was a more horrifying prospect than being stuck here with Eren for the rest of his life. 

Kenny had honed him into a blade and abandoned him; Erwin had captured and wielded him. He was a tool. A weapon. He had believed in the cause, but now that it was over he felt himself waking from a long sleep; the desire to be free, the horror of captivity.

The irony of the situation had not escaped him; Eren believed he was a prisoner here, but Levi had never felt more free.

The days formed a pattern; waking, sleeping, meals, work. He knew Eren was still prowling around, still trying to find some way to escape. He didn’t care; even if he had cared he would have been too exhausted to deal with it. 

Eren did the cooking, without any discussion. Maybe he knew that if it had been left to Levi they would have starved once the pickles and cheese ran out. 

It rained one night, rain and thunder and Levi lay in his room feeling a strange, curious excitement. Not pleasure, but something. Quietly he got out of bed, up the stairs, up and up. Most of these rooms were disused and empty. He unlatched a window and climbed out, unfazed both by the height and the slippery stone under his fingers. He climbed up onto the roof and then he sat, leaning against a stone chimney. 

The sounds he made were strange and animal. He leaned forward, crossing his arms in front of him and burying his face in them. Sobbing as the thunder rolled overhead and the rain pelted him. 

When it was over he felt better.

An odd calm had come over him. He went back down, back through the window, down the stairs and into his room. He left his clothes in a wet pile and took his time drying off before getting into bed.

It was late when he woke up, and he lay there feeling drowsy. “Levi?” Eren said cautiously. It was clear from the way he said it that he had been repeating his name for some little while.

His door was open a crack. Eren’s head was just visible; he was staring down at something. Levi looked, and saw the pile of his clothes still wet from the night before.

Eren was frowning, as if it were on his mind to say something. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Levi said.

“You...didn’t come down for breakfast.”

“I was tired.”

“All right…” Eren said. He closed the door.

Levi rolled onto his back, stretching out. He folded an arm under his head, and had a strange thought.

He was naked under the blankets; had Eren realized this? Suppose he had called Eren over, during that exchange…

 _What in the everloving fuck?_ he asked himself, more bemused than alarmed. And that in _itself_ was alarming. His sex drive, such as it was, vacilated somewhere between non-existent and ‘permanent hiatus’ during normal times.

When he did finally come down, Eren was cleaning the kitchen. There were some vegetables on the table, mostly half-wilted carrots and some potatoes that had seen better days. 

“Do you want--” Eren said at the same time Levi said,

“Is there any--”

Eren was blushing a little, for no reason Levi could see. He motioned to the stove and Levi picked up a tea towel to nudge the kettle fully over onto the front burner. It was shrieking in a minute or two and he went through the automatic motions of making tea. 

“We’re running out of vegetables,” Eren said finally.

“Mm,” Levi said, and Eren shot him a look full of loathing and stomped out of the kitchen. Eren had set aside some porridge but it didn’t really appeal; he put it away and went through the pantry. There were some small brown loaves Eren had made yesterday, and he took one with his mug of tea and walked out of the kitchen, down the path to the beach. Eren was skipping stones at the edge of the water.

He scowled when Levi came closer. They stood in silence for a few minutes. He felt very light, and at ease. It was so unfamiliar.

“They wanted to kill me,” Eren said suddenly, the angry words bursting out of him. They haven’t said much to each other in the weeks they’ve been here. Eren’s has time to stew on this. “What’s the point of this? Huh? _Keeping_ me here.”

“A lot of people have died to keep you alive, Eren,” Levi said. 

Eren clenched a fist; he turned and walked back into the castle and this time Levi let him go. It was a small island.

He really was feeling better. He had given the island a cursory overview some months ago when they’d scouted it, but he hadn’t been well enough to explore, leaving that to the others. Now he set out with a basket and some cut up pieces of linen. He stayed out most of the afternoon, taking the good feelings with him as he worked in the hot sunshine. 

When he got back the wilted carrots and potatoes were still sitting forlornly on the table and he smiled. He put the other things he’d found beside them on the table, loosely draped in the linen and then he went upstairs. The rest of the kitchen was untouched. The idea of Eren passive aggressively refusing to make meals was amusing enough that it kept him smiling as he filled up the tub upstairs. There was no running water in the castle of course, but there were cisterns that filled up from the rain, and pipes that ran into the bathroom and kitchen, as well as a brazier to heat the water. It would take a little time, but he had other chores to do. By the time he came back the water was hot and he stretched out in it to soak. 

He half-closed his eyes, still feeling the effects of the strange mood. As long as he had been alive there had been the threat of imminent death at the edge of his existence. Even among the Survey Corps, the brutally casual way he assessed any situation had been something half-impressive and half-alarming to his fellow soldiers. He had so wholly internalized it, that now that it was _gone_... 

There was no reason to hurry, so he did not. The brazier kept the bathwater warm. When he had had enough he got out and dried himself and dressed in clean clothes, enjoying each thing as it was presented, taking the time to tidy the bathroom and clean up.

When he finally came down again he found Eren standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, an inscrutable expression on his face. Everything on the kitchen table was still untouched. He drew some more water to fill the teapot, and stoked up the fire. 

“Where did you get all this?” Eren said finally, motioning to the wild carrots and garlic and ramps on the table. He seemed subdued.

Levi motioned vaguely to the outside. “Growing,” he said.

“Just...wild?”

“Somebody obviously planted things here, a long time ago. This castle didn’t sprout from nothing.”

Eren didn’t say anything. Then he picked up a handful of vegetables and began to scrub them. Levi took a leaf from the wild garlic, turning it over in his hands. There was a mortar and pestle in the pantry and he went and got it, bringing it back to the table. 

“What are you doing?” Eren asked curiously.

“Somebody did this once, a long time ago. When we were outside the walls. I don’t know if I can...”

Eren watched him as he stripped the leaves and put them into the pestle, trying to remember. Adger. That had been his name. He had died a few missions later, to the lamentation of all who had appreciated his cooking. Levi began to grind the leaves into a paste. 

Eren left, and Levi added a little salt and pepper, wondering what was missing. _Oil,_ he thought suddenly and went to retrieve some. Eren had been gone a while. He peeked out the kitchen window, and saw him there, hunched over something. He came out.

“For god’s sake,” he said suddenly, startling Eren. He held out a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation Eren handed him the knife, handle-first. He had the fish gutted and scaled in moments. Eren stayed nearby, watching him.

“You caught that fast,” Levi remarked.

“I set some traps, down by the rocks,” Eren said. “I got lucky.”

“Hmm,” Levi said approvingly. They took the fish back inside, and cooked it with the carrots and wild garlic sauce. It was the best meal they’d eaten since coming here. Levi had an inkling that Eren was feeling a little of the same quietude that had overtaken him, though it didn’t seem to be sitting well with him. Eren was always reluctant to let go of his anger.

The next day when Levi got up and made his leisurely way downstairs he found Eren clenching his fists over and over again in the kitchen. There were a few wooden crates there. Their resupply had come in the night. He glared at Levi--as if he thought it was unfair that he hadn’t had a chance to steal the airship--and stormed out of the room.

Levi laughed alone in the empty kitchen, put the tea kettle on, and began to unpack the crates.

Nothing was wasted. Where there had once been a kitchen garden, however many centuries past, Levi tilled and dug, until the earth was pliable and warm again. He found treasures from the past, things dropped by unknown hands. A clay pipe. Rusted iron nails. A few keys, and most surprising of all a tiny golden ring. He cleaned that up in the ocean, and when it was sparkling he turned it over and over in his hands. It was very small--undoubtedly a woman’s ring--and he couldn’t help but feel pity for the long-dead woman that had surely lost it and mourned it. He put it in an empty box in his room, along with the other things he’d found after he cleaned them up. He wasn’t sure why he was saving them. It wasn’t something he would have done in the old life. 

Now, though, it pleased him to save them and keep them, and even to take them out from time to time and imagine their owners. 

The first thing he planted in the garden were Eren’s rejected potatoes, sprouting new life again. They had been replaced in the resupply by fresher ones.

To mark the edges of the garden he took clam shells and flat stones from the beach. When it was done it was as tidy as he could have liked, and he let himself regard it with unmuted satisfaction. He had never gardened before either, but the general principles seemed sound.

Eren was sulking somewhere.

It was in his nature to bring order to chaos, and that was what he did. He could take pleasure in the little jobs of tidying, and repairing, and even cooking once Eren stopped coming down from his room. This place made him happy. The idea of returning to Hanji seemed farther and farther from reality; he had imagined himself going back vaguely, in some distant future. He couldn’t imagine it now.

There were ways you could preserve fruits and vegetables, and he asked Hanji for some books once their next resupply came. Eren gave him another look of shocked betrayal when he saw the new crates. Levi laughed, and Eren looked even more outraged.

“When are they coming? _Where_ are they coming?”

They hadn’t spoken in several days. Levi smiled and said nothing, and Eren left the kitchen. His angry silence was the only rebellion he had left. Distantly Levi heard a door slam and he shook his head. His mind was on the vegetables growing in the garden, the things that could be foraged, the fish and clams. How they could make the place self-sustaining.

He spent an agreeable day working and doing chores, and he finished it reading another book that Hanji had sent him. When it was late he put it away and went outside. The days were growing warmer and longer, but it was late now, and dark enough that you could see a vast number of stars. 

He heard footsteps, breathing in the dark. Eren sat down beside him. “I need to know,” he said. “I’ve been staying up all night--”

“No wonder you look so tired.”

Eren ignored him. “It’s not regular. It was three weeks between the day we got here and the first time, then ten days, then two weeks, then _nine_ \--”

“Eren.”

“I’ve been watching for them! Nobody comes! I stayed up all night--I didn’t sleep--”

“You’re not going to know,” Levi said. “You don’t need to know.”

He felt Eren bristling in the dark. “All right,” he said low and quiet. “What if you died? How would they know that? If I was alone?”

 _Oh Eren,_ he thought, feeling real pity. “They’d figure it out, I suppose,” he said mildly. “But you told me yourself, they wanted to kill you. Do you think they’d care if you were alone?”

He couldn’t see Eren’s face, but he could feel him staring in the darkness. “You--” he said, stumbling over the word. “You--what are you--you _volunteered_ for this?”

He could feel Eren’s shock, but he couldn’t summon up any feeling about it beyond mild surprise. What had Eren thought? That Hanji had assigned him here, to be Eren’s jailer? They hadn’t talked about it, he and Eren, but they hadn’t talked about much these last few months. Years.

It had seemed obvious enough to him.

“You know you can’t leave, Eren,” Levi said mildly. “You’ve tried. There’s no way out of here. They’d never have put you here if there was.”

“I could build a raft,” Eren said grimly. “A boat.”

“You could try,” Levi said agreeably. “You’d die of dehydration within a few days, out in the ocean. There’s nowhere to go.”

“I could bring water with me,” Eren said stubbornly.

“There’s also the storms that roll through,” Levi said. “Usually one or two a week. The waves get very high. Even if you survived that I don’t see how you could bring enough water with you--”

“When the storms come--the rain could refill whatever I brought with me. I’d get water that way.”

He sounded so desperately certain.

“Eren,” Levi said, gently. “Think about the people who put you here. They know you better than anyone. Do you think they would have done it if there was any way you could leave alive?”

“I could!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “I have to _try_ \--”

Levi laid a hand on his shoulder, and Eren went immediately silent. He didn’t think either one of them had laid a hand on the other, not since that first day, months ago when he’d fallen on the stairs. It felt good to touch another person again. Not strange. 

“What do you want me to tell you?” he asked gently. “If you take the front door off its hinges, and float it down into the water--do you want to _try_? You can’t build a boat, Eren, and even if you could you couldn’t build one that could get far enough away from here. The waves are very rough once you get past a certain distance from the island. We tested it. We watched small boats get smashed apart.”

Eren was trembling under his hand.

“There are no trees on the island, did you notice? We don’t even have much furniture. You want me to go on? Anything you can think of you can bet Hanji and Armin thought of first. Why do you think this island is here? Hundreds of years ago somebody’s royal pain in the ass got stuck here to keep them from trying to usurp the kingdom.”

“I _can’t,”_ Eren said in a low horrible voice. “I can’t, I _can’t_ \--”

He fell forward into Levi’s lap, wailing, and Levi caught him in surprise. Eren pressed his head into Levi’s thigh, brutally, as if he wanted to disappear into him somehow. His whole body was shaking, and he cried out as if he were in pain. Eren, who had shown no emotion but cold tamped down anger in all these months. 

There had been nothing approaching this--this kind of vulnerability in years. Not since Eren was a child. He stroked Eren’s hair, letting him cry. 

He was thinking of that night in the thunderstorm, remembering how _he_ had cried. He was far from understanding that experience, but without it he didn’t see how he could have gotten _here._ Those first few weeks had been like a fever dream. If Eren had realized sooner, had collapsed on him back then he wouldn’t have been able to cope with it.

Now it’s easy enough. Eren’s like a wounded animal, and it’s not hard to treat him like one. After a while he got to his feet, half carrying Eren indoors and up to his room. He didn’t bother with a lamp, feeling his way in the darkness as Eren howled inconsolably. He laid Eren down in his own bed, tucking the blankets in around him, and then he lay beside him on top of the covers. Curling his body around Eren. After a long time the crying stopped. When he was certain Eren was asleep Levi stirred, getting up to go back to his own room.

“Levi.”

He turned around. But Eren seemed asleep--his eyes were closed. His breathing was deep and even. After another moment he left.

The next morning he was making tea when Eren came down, early. He didn’t look very good. His eyes were red and his hair was a truly horrifying sight. He looked like someone who had been up half the night crying.

He had a small, folded slip of paper in his hands, and he handed it to Levi and then sat down. There was a short list of things written on it. 

“All right,” Levi said, after reading it. He put it in his shirt pocket, and then poured out tea for both of them. 

Eren stared at his cup. 

“Why did you bother?” he asked after a moment.

“Huh?”

“If it was you--” his voice was raw, “If you were the one who--were you?” Eren looked up at him suddenly, his expression so open and aching. It reminded Levi of the boy he’d once been, and it gave him a little pang because that boy had been lost to him for many years.

“What are you asking?”

Eren blew out a breath. _“Were_ they going to kill me? Did you...stop them?”

“Yes.”

He deflated a little.

“Why are you so surprised?” Levi asked, honestly curious. He had never thought of any of this as a revelation, or a secret.

“I...I did it to save them,” Eren said, tipping forward, his head in his hands. Levi prudently moved his cup to the side. They didn’t have that many cups.

“None of us wanted to be saved like that. You were too dangerous to be allowed to live freely. I’m...surprised you haven’t figured all this out already.”

“But--” 

“Eren, _genocide_ isn’t something you can walk back.” He’d finished his cup in between all of Eren’s moaning. He’s dealt with this already, in his own mind and it’s not that interesting to him, whatever belated guilt or aggrievement Eren’s experiencing. He has his own work to do, and if Eren’s just going to sit here and whine he’d rather not be a party to it.

“So why did you save me, why was it _you_ \--”

No, he can’t take this. He might be gaining some peace and perspective out here but he’s not a goddamn saint. He grabbed Eren by the throat and threw him up against the wall--violence answers, in his experience--and Eren stared at him with wide, wide eyes. Levi held him there, pinned, and said, 

“When have I ever let anyone die when I could help it?”

He let Eren go, and went out to weed his garden.

Eren takes his meals with him again, even starts taking over most of the cooking. It’s clear to Levi he has some other burning question he wants to ask, equally clear that he’s not going to. He’s been giving Levi a healthy berth. Probably doesn’t want to be thrown up against a wall again. 

When the next resupply came he didn’t pout or comment upon it, but he did give Levi a questioning look. Levi nodded. He had passed on the list; Eren would just have to wait a few weeks...

It was really summer now. It was cooler inside than outside--the stone walls were thick--but there was no real air flow. Once they had a string of warm days it was unbearable to be indoors, especially during the day. It was too hot to cook, so they lived off of cold provisions, and sometimes Eren would build a fire on the beach. The patches of berries that came suddenly into fruit were happy discoveries.

Eren went swimming every day to cool off, but Levi was still too leery of the water to follow suit. Though he had started accompanying Eren down to the shore on his daily swims. They were civil to one another--like polite roommates these days--not talking about the past or about anything controversial (which was most things).

Eren knew about Levi’s unease and he didn’t press him, but one particularly stifling day--when Levi had actually come to stand in ankle deep, of his own volition--Eren came impulsively forward and took his hands. His larger ones cupped the backs of Levi’s. Levi stared down, looking at the outline of Eren’s big sun-warmed hands against his own. 

“Come in,” he said, his voice low, not meeting Levi’s eyes.

And Levi found himself saying, “...all right.”

Eren moved back and Levi walked up the beach, to keep his clothes away from the lapping water. He undressed, leaving his sweaty shirt on a rock to dry and sighing in involuntary pleasure when the sea breeze moved over his bare skin. He left all his clothes on the beach, and came into the water naked, as Eren did.

It was cold, but it felt wonderful.

It was up to his ribcage when Eren finally turned to look at him. He had been facing away, to give Levi some privacy, but now he turned back to him, his faint smile frozen in place and turning to a look of horror. 

_“What--”_ Eren said, and then stopped.

Levi glanced down, touching his chest absently with his bad hand. He was used to the scars. He looked back up at Eren. “What? That? You’ve seen them before.”

Eren shook his head mutely. 

“No?” Levi said. He thought about it; no, perhaps not. They haven’t exactly been in each other’s company in a state of undress--well, not on his side. Eren had been locked up all the time he’d been sick, when his injuries had been worst. The scars on his face were impossible to hide, but he supposed Eren had gotten used to those. 

Eren looked ill and awful, but Levi just felt impatient with him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, low.

“For what? This? But not for all the people you murdered?”

Eren winced. He shifted and went to leave, to escape, but Levi grabbed him. Even in the water he was swifter, more agile. Eren gasped and stared at him; the water was shallow, and he’d knocked Eren to his knees. They were nearly at eye level. Levi held him tightly; a wrestler’s hold, not an embrace but intimate all the same. They were touching all along, all up and down their bodies. 

Eren looked terrified, like he was fifteen again and Levi could see into his soul.

“Every day you wake up and you’re alive, you’re better off than every poor motherfucker who’s not,” he said. “Every day you have the chance to do something different with your life. Figure your shit out Eren.” He released him, and Eren fell back on his haunches, sitting back on his folded legs. 

“How can I?” he said, barely audible. “How can I do anything from here?”

Levi shook his head and glided further into the water. The ocean cooled his skin, his body. It felt good. It felt good to float here, to feel weightless, held up by something so much vaster than himself. His own problems shrunk down to something infinitesimal and small, no more important than those of any other creature scurrying or swimming, hidden in the depths below.

Eren swam towards him. Levi thought he could probably touch bottom here. They weren’t so very far out. 

“I am sorry,” he said in a low voice. “For...the pain I caused. The death. But also to you. I didn’t know them. I knew you. You were kind to me. You--” He bowed his head, collecting himself for a moment before continuing. “You deserved better from me. And I had no right to expect you to save me, after everything I did.”

Levi blew out a breath, feeling a weird mix of his earlier impatience along with something he couldn’t name. “You didn’t expect it,” he pointed out. 

“No,” Eren said, then he was touching Levi’s chest, one of the thick pink scars before he gently floated away.

He had several thoughts at once; one was _oh._ Another was that Eren _could_ touch bottom here. The last and most startling was how much he suddenly wanted to kiss Eren, along with the even more alarming thought that there was a non-zero chance Eren might go along with it.

He moved further away, uncomfortable, the strange mix of emotions making him prickly.

He was too old for some weird pubescent sexual awakening. That was what he kept telling himself, but the thoughts wouldn’t stop. He’d never given much attention to sex. He had spent the majority of his life occupied with trying to stay alive.

Maybe this was the afterlife. It wasn’t hell. It wasn’t any place he had ever imagined. And if Eren ever made a move on him...well, fuck. He didn’t think he’d be able to say ‘yes’ fast enough. 

Eren did change. Levi hadn’t acted with the expectation that he would. When he had insisted they spare Eren’s life it hadn’t been with any kind of plan for what would follow. He didn’t know if Eren had accepted life here, or was acting out of the same kind of pragmatism...live for now and see what happens later.

Eren had asked for tools and paper. One of the sheets made its way to the kitchen, and they both wrote things down as they occurred to them. One day, helping Levi in the garden Eren said, “What about chickens?”

Levi considered. “I suppose…” 

Eren immediately went to go pick through the pile of scrap wood they had been accumulating. Levi went inside and began washing potatoes for dinner.

There was a new source of entertainment a few weeks later when the chickens arrived. The coop Eren had built was surprisingly serviceable; they took possession of it without any qualms. He and Eren watched them chase insects around, and peck at the grain Eren had scattered on the ground. 

Levi had never given any special consideration to chickens before. One day--he usually drank his tea outside now, observing the chickens in their ceaseless hunt for food--Eren came out to join him.

“What.”

“What about a cow?”

Levi looked at him. “A cow.”

“We could have milk.”

“Do you even drink milk? Do you know how to milk a cow?”

Eren frowned. He mumbled something that sounded like, “How hard could it be.”

Levi turned his attention back to the chickens.

“We could have cheese.”

“We have cheese.”

“We could make _our own_ cheese.”

“You don’t know how to do that either.”

“We could get a book.”

“If you’re bored, go and wash the floors.”

Eren gave him a wounded look and left, but by the fall Eren had worn him down. They compromised on a couple of goats.

Another piece of paper joined the first in the kitchen, a list of chores, repairs, projects. It grew steadily longer. They didn’t run out of things to do. There wasn’t enough _time_ in the day. 

The bedrooms were growing colder as the days grew shorter; finally they retrenched to the room above the kitchen. It was a large room they had left empty until now. The enormous fireplace made it seem like this had been the main living space, in some long ago time. They spent a day moving in the rugs and tapestries from Levi’s room--Levi felt a vague sense of penitence, that Eren’s room was still so spartan after all this time, but then he’d never asked for anything.

They put their mattresses side by side in front of the fireplace, and it was the first night either of them had felt really warm in months. 

Now that they had solved the problem of being warm--they could cook over the large fireplace too, and avoid the kitchen almost entirely--neither of them wanted to venture into the rest of the place any more than was necessary, or even go outside apart from bringing in more firewood or feeding the animals.

Levi thought they really might go crazy and kill each other now. When he had imagined being confined here with Eren it hadn’t been in _one room_. Even after their rapprochement they had gone long periods of time without seeing one another. Their own projects and chores had kept them busy, elsewhere and apart outside of mealtimes. 

He soon realized it wasn’t so bad. Eren didn’t bother him; he stuck to a corner of the room with the window that had the most light. He had wanted a loom (a loom!) before their supplies stopped coming for the winter. He and Hanji had agreed that it wasn’t worth the risk of sending an airship through a winter storm. They’d stuffed the pantry full of dry goods last week, and they were settled in now, for better or worse.

Eren had never woven before either. He had a book open next to him, and he was stubbornly cursing and muttering his way through it. It was entertaining--his standard of what was entertaining had fallen very low lately.

He had his own things to do, projects to keep him busy, books to read. They still had to prepare meals, dispose of waste (though the goats were happy for the potato peels and scraps of carrot), care for the animals. Levi was still a scourge for cleaning. He exercised in the mornings; push ups and running up and down the stairs and hanging in doorways. It was easy to find ways to keep his body busy.

Sometimes they talked, though they still avoided most things. Eren kept stubbornly at the loom the hours of the day he wasn’t busy with something else. He would take a break to come and run up and down the stairs with Levi, working out his frustration before going back to it. 

He’d rest his head on the table--they’d moved the kitchen table upstairs, for the time being--and moan, “Why is this so hard.”

But he stubbornly kept at it, and near the end of the second week he said in a low breathless voice when Levi came back in the room from morning chores, 

“Levi. Look.”

He came and stood behind Eren’s shoulder to watch as the loom shuttled back and forth, producing something that was recognizably cloth at the other end.

“It almost looks like you know what you’re doing now.”

Eren grinned up at him, and his chest tightened involuntarily. Eren hadn’t looked so young and happy in years.

When the coldest days had passed they started venturing outside again, rambling along the beach and the edges of the island. It was still very cold and the wind blew hard and fierce, making them grateful to escape inside again.

When he lay beside Eren at night, listening to his breathing, feeling the warmth from the fire embracing them both, it felt almost like they were on a life boat. Two lone survivors. 

Eren’s first tapestry was plain; just colored stripes. He hadn’t wanted to complicate it with a design, but after Levi helped him hang it on one of the walls he settled back in at the table with a sigh of resignation. Levi smiled faintly, watching him count out the strings and separate the colors.

He had left one of their rain barrels uncovered outside, and it had collected a decent amount of snow. He built up a fire outside, shivering a little until it got going; then he put the laundry pot over it, filled it with the snow. When the water had melted and it was hot enough he started putting their clothes in. Not everything at once--it wasn’t big enough for that--but a little at a time. Then when they were clean he had to wring them out, and bring them inside to drape over the clotheshorse Eren had rigged up in the kitchen. It took most of the morning, and by the end he was cold and wet in spite of his best efforts. He felt satisfied though as he maneuvered past the piles of dripping clothes in the kitchen, back upstairs to Eren.

Eren had made lunch. “I was going to go get you,” he said. “You know, we could have waited another week for laundry.”

 _“You_ could, maybe,” Levi said, and Eren grinned. He stripped his wet clothes off in front of the fire, shivering in his underwear, and he spread them out to dry. Eren had laid out a blanket for him. While he was standing there, shivering and rubbing his hands together, Eren draped it around him, enveloping him from head to toe. 

He was suddenly very warm. Eren sat down at the table and looked at him expectantly, and so he sat, holding the blanket against his body with one hand instead of getting dressed. It felt very decadent, to sit here, eating lunch in nothing but his underwear and a blanket, with Eren sitting across and behaving as if this were all perfectly normal. 

It made him wonder what would happen if he reached out across the table and took Eren’s hand; it made him wonder all kinds of things.

He couldn’t recall, later, who had suggested they move out of their winter quarters, or if they had come to it by mutual agreement. When their supplies resumed--full of fresh vegetables and fruit, Hanji had been kind--they had already been living apart several weeks.

He missed Eren, missed the closeness of being confined to one room. Which was really stupid when you thought of the two of them trapped alone on this tiny island.

But it was true. He missed Eren, missed the way they’d talked throughout the day. Nothing earthshattering, but if one of them read something funny in a book they’d read it aloud; if one of them encountered some problem and needed a hand the other one was already there to help.

_“I’m going to go feed the animals.”_

_“No--you went yesterday, I’ll do it._

_“You just don’t want to make dinner._

_“That’s up to you. If I make dinner we’re having bread and cheese again.”_

Sometimes he wondered if physical closeness would help; they didn’t touch, as a rule. He wondered how it would be to press his body to Eren’s, to be close enough to feel Eren’s skin as his own. Certain moments jumped out at him, remembering the first time they’d swum together, the time he’d stood half-naked before the fire and Eren had wrapped a blanket around him.

The ache he felt most days was pleasant though. Desire hadn’t left him a half-filled cup. He felt more like the garden in late winter, tingling and ready to burst forth, waiting for some invisible sign.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Eren looked at him curiously, cocking his head. Clearly not believing him.

“Mikasa is coming,” he said. 

Eren leaned against the table. “What, _here? Why?”_

 _It’s my fault,_ Levi thought. _I told Hanji you had changed...I never imagined she’d tell anyone else…_

Maybe it hadn’t happened like that though. Maybe Mikasa had formed her own plans, gone to Hanji afterward. Hanji had only approved because of what he’d told her. 

He sighed. “She wants to see you.”

Eren looked troubled. He was biting his lower lip, thinking. “When?” he said at last.

“Soon.”

It was nighttime when the airship came. Levi had been half-listening for it for days, dread a low familiar feeling in his stomach. Eren had been unusually quiet; half a dozen times a day he’d start to speak to Levi, change his mind and go silent.

They were in the kitchen, and he heard the ship docking. It was quiet; he didn’t think Eren had noticed, but he heard the footsteps coming up the path. He looked up at Levi, suddenly wide eyed and stood up. 

There was a pause; a hesitant knock at the kitchen door. Levi nodded to Eren; _Go on._

Eren took a breath and then stood up and opened the door. He and Mikasa stared at each other for a moment. Then they were embracing, Mikasa laughing and crying on his shoulder.

He stayed silent while they sat together--laughing, crying, talking by turns. He wanted to leave but he didn’t, because that would have been a kind of cowardice. He just waited, one hand wrapped around his still half-full cup of tea. It had long since gone cold.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” Eren said, finally, after they’d been talking a while. “But--” he shot a vaguely abashed glance at Levi, “Why _are_ you here Mikasa? Why now? I thought…”

She turned in surprise to Levi. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me?” Eren repeated.

At the same time, Levi said, “I thought it would be better if you did it.” The words came out heavier than he had intended. “Will you stay the night, here, Mikasa?”

She flushed a little. “No--on my ship. They…” she trailed off, and he nodded. 

“Good night then,” he said to both of them.

Eren looked back and forth between the two of them, bewildered.

He was up early the next morning--he hadn’t really slept. He’d laid down for a while, but...

When the sky began to lighten he got up to do the morning chores--there weren’t that many at this time of year, but the animals still needed to be tended.

The sun had barely risen when he saw Mikasa, climbing up the hill to join him. She had a set, hard look on her face that he recognized. She didn’t look like she’d slept much either.

“He says he won’t go,” she told him in a tightly controlled voice.

Levi blinked several times. She was looking at him--deeply annoyed in her own way--as if it were his fault.

“Let me talk to him,” Levi said at last.

Her expression lightened--a modicum--and she gave a sharp nod before turning and going back down the hill. Her back was stiff.

Levi breathed out. 

Eren was in the kitchen already--he gave Levi a smile that was more of a grimace. He was heating up the stove for tea.

“Hey,” he said.

Levi sat down. Wondering how to begin. Finally he just said, “She says you won’t go.”

Eren breathed out.

When the fire was hot he put the kettle on; when the water was hot he took it off again and made their tea. He sat down across from Levi.

“If I went,” he said slowly, “to Hizuru with Mikasa--what would it be like? Would I be free? To--go wherever I wanted?”

“I doubt it,” Levi said. “They’d want to guard you. Paradis doesn’t want you back. Hanji agreed because the risk of you escaping and returning was low.”

“What about the risk of my getting embroiled in some new plot?” Eren said carefully. He was staring at the tea in his cup, turning it around in his hands. “Becoming someone’s pawn. Or just--trying to do something. On my own. They wanted to kill me. They didn’t---” he looked up at Levi, a look that was full of meaning. “I’m here for a reason.” Here, on this island he meant.

“Mikasa said she’d take responsibility,” Levi said. “She knows what that means. Paradis doesn’t want you running loose--”

“Causing trouble,” Eren muttered, and if that wasn’t a fucking understatement--

“Everyone thinks you’re dead. Everyone except us. We had to tell the world we had executed the war criminal Eren Jaeger to move ahead with the peace treaty. If you go with Mikasa--”

“I’ll have to have a new name,” Eren said slowly. “She’ll have to hide my identity. I’d be putting her in danger. Someone would always be watching me. I’d be a prisoner.”

 _You’re a prisoner here._ But Levi didn’t say it, because he didn’t believe it. Neither did Eren.

“It doesn’t sound so great, when you put it like that.” His voice was a little hoarse, but he didn’t think Eren had noticed.

“I’m not going,” Eren said. “But--” he hesitated, then he looked up at Levi, really looked at him. “You don’t have to stay.”

“What?”

“You’re--” he shook his head. “When we got here, I thought you were my jailer. You’re not. You never were. You’re more of a prisoner than I am. Because of me. Because of what _I_ did. You’re not here to keep me from escaping,” his voice was soft and thoughtful. “You’ve told me that before. I’m trapped--I know. You’re here to take care of me.”

He felt a weird, invisible shiver pass through him.

“You stayed to make sure I didn’t go crazy, being here alone. Or kill myself. But you don’t have to.” Eren’s voice was low and sweet. “I’ll be all right. You shouldn’t have to be--away from everyone, from your life, from the people you care about because of me. It _isn’t_ fair, to you. _You_ should go with Mikasa. She can bring you home.” He leaned back, smiling. “I’m staying.”

Eren and Mikasa spent the day together. Levi kept his distance, giving them time to talk. She left at sunset. Levi walked down to the beach and she gave him a weary look. He guessed Eren had convinced her. She parted from Eren--gave Levi one last complicated look--and stepped on board her ship.

Eren turned to Levi. “You don’t have anything with you…”

“No.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“No.”

Eren gave him a little tremulous smile. “You could always visit...if you wanted to, you know. Check up on me.”

“No.”

He was fighting back a grin now. Tension seemed to leave him. They waved goodbye to Mikasa’s airship as it launched, and as it grew smaller Eren slung an arm around his shoulders and held him tight.

One day late in their second summer on the island they lay on the beach, on linen towels. The sun felt good, and Levi had long since given up on trying to get anything done on days like this. They did the bare minimum of chores, and then came down here to spend the day basking and swimming. 

They ate handfuls of blackberries and bread and goat cheese. Levi had to grudgingly give Eren credit for the cheese. Eren took it graciously.

Eren lay naked, only a few feet away from him, totally unselfconscious and at ease. Levi could look over at him, whenever he wanted. Could stare, even, though he didn’t do that. He wondered sometimes if Eren was looking at him; his scars, his missing fingers.

“Levi,” Eren said. He was sitting straight up, alert. Levi blinked, still in his sun-drunk stupor. He looked where Eren was pointing, and saw it. A tiny point in the clear noon-day sky. A small black dot growing larger. Levi hissed, and got to his feet. Eren looked at him worriedly. 

“Go inside,” Levi said before Eren could speak. “Hide.”

He hadn’t worn his maneuver gear or carried blades in over a year, and he didn’t think about how bad it felt to put them on again. The things themselves were comfort, armor, but it was what they signified.

He didn’t want any of it back. His bedroom looked out over the beach, which was the likeliest landing spot, and he stood at the window looking out through a pair of binoculars as the ship got closer. Eren crowded close behind. He had gotten dressed, but he hadn’t listened.

Levi put the binoculars down and swore. 

“What?”

“It’s Armin,” Levi said, turning. “I’m going to kill him. Stay here!” he snapped, when Eren made to follow him. Eren looked put upon, but obeyed.

He made it to the beach before Armin did, standing there scowling with his arms crossed as the airship touched down. Armin emerged slowly.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

Levi turned, and swept away, Armin following a few paces behind. When they were inside he turned on Armin with surprising wrath. “What the _fuck,”_ he said, so viciously that Armin looked startled and took a step back.

“This is not part of the protocol! How could you come here in the day and put him at risk!”

Armin straightened up. “No one saw me. I left from--”

“That doesn’t matter! We agreed to these rules for a reason.” 

It wasn’t exactly an argument; Levi raged at him, in that understated way that he had, and Armin made a half-hearted attempt to placate him. He was too worked up to let things go. In the twenty minutes since they’d first seen the airship his entire world had been turned upside down; he had been sure it was someone coming to kill or abduct Eren. Every moment of peace he’d ever had here had been shattered.

He felt Eren, coming to wrap his arms around him from behind and he shut up. Eren held him tightly, so tightly that something inside him started to unwind and come loose.

They don’t do this. They don’t touch like this, and what the fuck is Eren doing it in front of Armin for? But he didn’t try to break free, and Eren didn’t release him. Instead Eren put his head against Levi’s, cheek to cheek, and said in a low voice, “It’s all right. Let me talk to him.”

He gave Armin one last death glare. “Fine,” he said, and Eren let him go, but slowly. He squeezed his arms. Levi stalked out of the kitchen.

When he was gone they looked at each other for a long moment. Studying the changes each of them saw. 

“You look good,” Armin said finally.

“Yeah,” Eren said. “So do you. So how’ve you been?”

Armin bit his lip, fighting back a smile. He threw his arms around Eren, and hugged him tight.

He and Armin talked for hours. Eren told him everything he’d been doing on the island, and Armin was a little cagey but he told him about Jean and Connie, and a little bit about himself. 

It took a while before they got to his reason for coming.

“Why didn’t you go with MIkasa?” he asked finally. 

“She didn’t tell you?”

“She told me something. I want to hear it from you.”

“I’m happy here,” Eren said. Armin raised an eyebrow. “It’s the truth,” Eren said. 

“I don’t know how you haven’t gone crazy,” Armin admitted. “I wasn’t...totally happy with this as a solution.”

“You would have rather seen me dead?”

“No, of course not,” Armin said. “But I didn’t want to see you in solitary confinement for the rest of your life either.”

“I’m not solitary. And I’m not confined.”

Armin frowned. 

“What?”

“It’s not a big island,” he said. 

“It’s big enough,” he said, feeling weirdly defensive of their little island. 

“And...you don’t get lonely?”

“You care all of a sudden?” 

“I always cared, Eren. You were the one who…”

“I know what I did and I know why I did it. I know what kind of world we live in.”

Armin blew out a breath. “This isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“I’m not trying to go anywhere.”

Armin looked at his face searchingly. “Just like that? You’ve lost all ambition?”

“It was never about my ambition. It was about keeping the ones I loved safe. Everyone I care about is safer if I’m here.”

He got why Armin had felt the need to come and see for himself.

But Armin didn’t understand—couldn’t understand. To him, it probably did look like a prison. He couldn’t even deny that he’d felt that way too, for months after he’d first arrived. But they left it, after a while, a point of mutual disagreement, and talked about other things. It was almost a normal conversation, and that made it the first one of those they’d had in years. It gave Eren a pang for the kind of life he might have had. But not enough to wish he was going too when Armin left.

Late in the day when they were saying their goodbyes Armin said, “I’m sorry about how I arrived. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’d been thinking about coming to see you for months and…” he shrugged expressively.

Eren smiled. “Well...don’t do it again. I don’t think I can guarantee your safety if you do.”

“No, I know that,” Armin said with a laugh. “I don’t think I would have survived if you hadn’t been there. I am sorry…”

Eren waved this away. “He’ll get over it.”

Armin smiled faintly. “It’s funny that it’s still you two...after all these years.”

Eren felt a jolt of heat in his belly. “What do you mean?” he asked carefully. Even as he thought of the way he’d embraced Levi, right in front of Armin, the too-intimate way...he’d been acting on impulse, but…

“Don’t you remember how you used to follow him around like a puppy?” Armin said. His eyes were crinkled in amusement. “He always liked you. When one of us fucked something up we’d send you to tell him so we wouldn’t get in trouble.”

He didn’t know what to say; at last he settled for, “That was a long time ago.”

“And here you are again,” Armin said.

Levi did come to say goodbye to Armin after all, and Eren watched them talk, and even briefly embrace on the beach before Armin left at dusk.

He came back to stand at Eren’s side, muttering, “He’s an idiot. He should never have come like that.”

Levi was still tense and worked up, and though he hadn’t meant to Eren reached out to rub his back. He could feel Levi soften infinitesimally, and he stroked upward, running his hand through the soft bristley underside of Levi’s hair.

“He was...concerned.”

“Then he should have written first and come at night.”

“Maybe he wanted to catch you unawares, in case you were locking me up in the basement again.”

Levi snorted. “I have better things to do.”

They bumped shoulders companionably on the way back to the castle.

There was an unexpectedly large crate with their next delivery. Eren grinned when he saw it, left outside halfway up the beach.

“Ha!” he said, attacked it with a crowbar.

Levi felt a strange sense of foreboding.

“What is that?” he said.

“Something I asked Armin for,” Eren said. “He said he’d have to run it by Hanji, but…”

The last of the planks gave way and Eren gave a triumphant crow, revealing a small, sleek sailboat that Levi eyed with extreme disquiet.

“You have to be careful—“

“I know.”

“You’ve got to keep the island within sight at all times—you could get lost out there. And the waves are big once you get out too far, you can’t—“

“Levi, I know.” Eren took hold of his shoulders, smiling. He had a rudimentary knowledge of sailing, which Levi was cursing bitterly at the moment. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll be careful.”

Then he released Levi to drag the boat out into the water, hopping in once it broke free of the sandy bottom. He grinned, waving at Levi as he held on to one of the ropes, shrinking smaller and smaller as he faded into the distance.

Levi paced the shore.

He hated when Eren went sailing, though over time he grew to merely dislike it. 

Sometimes Eren could cajole him into coming along, and that was always a nerve wracking experience. He didn’t care for Eren’s piloting; he was still a novice, and whenever the boat jerked under his hands it made Levi’s teeth rattle.

To compensate a little he made Eren teach him the basic mechanics. He wasn’t wholly comfortable with that either, but a couple of times he’d shoved Eren out of the way when the turbulence got _particularly_ bad, and the craft had smoothed again under his handling, to his tremendous relief. 

Eren would just watch, giving him a guilty but unrepentant grin.

He would have dearly loved to forbid the sailing entirely. His favorite fantasy involved chopping up the boat up for firewood. He despised Armin for procuring the fucking thing, and Hanji for acquiescing without _talking to him first._

The boat was here though, and he couldn’t prevent Eren from doing something that brought him so much pleasure. He kept hoping that more time with the stupid thing would improve Eren’s skills, or at least diminish his own anxiety. But Eren had always had a streak of impatience when it came to learning new things, wanting to move on to more advanced work before he was ready.

The stakes for this were higher than a tangled, half-finished tapestry. Eren wasn’t a strong swimmer—neither of them was. Thoughts about him drowning, losing his way, or the boat being smashed apart kept him awake at night. He had nightmares about the boat returning, brought in by the tide-- _without Eren._

He had enjoyed the summer before, the long lazy days by the beach, in the sun, by Eren’s side. Now he couldn’t wait until the weather turned bad, and Eren could be reasonably confined to the island for months.

The weather turned cool and Eren kept taking the sailboat out--but it was obvious he was struggling. The water was choppier than it had been in the summer, and more than once he came back chilled and shivering from the high spray. Levi watched with eagle-eyed concern but so far he’d kept quiet.

Everything he’d said had fallen on deaf ears, and he could tell Eren was itching to dig in his heels and fight about something--he remembered that too. He didn’t want to drive him to be more reckless than he already was. 

Finally--a little sheepishly--Eren asked Levi to help him carry it up to the makeshift shed he’d built. He hadn’t taken the boat out for days, and it was sitting forlornly on the beach. It had been gray and stormy all week, and they moved it during a break in the rain.

“Thank god,” Levi said, unable to help himself when Eren locked it away, barring the door against the wind. 

Eren looked at him reproachfully. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Really,” Levi said, and Eren squirmed a little; he’d come back soaked the last few times.

Levi thought that was the end of it; Eren dragged out the loom and began muttering and cursing in the upstairs room (made cozier by the addition of a few colorful--if slightly primitive--tapestries) again, and Levi said a silent prayer that his winter hobby was less dangerous than his summer one.

Then the storms broke, suddenly, and they had one glorious, sunny, _hot_ day and Eren was dragging the damn thing down the beach. Levi stopped him halfway.

“Eren,” he said, in his not-fucking-around voice and Eren stopped to frown at him. “This isn’t a good idea.”

He huffed. “I’ve taken it out plenty of times on days like this,” he said, throwing out his arm. “It’s fine. I’ll get one last good run in before winter’s here.”

“Winter _is_ here,” Levi said. “You know how fast the weather can change. This is a fluke.”

“I’ll be careful, and I won’t go far,” he said, but Levi wouldn’t budge.

Eren pushed past him.

“Eren!” 

“What?” Eren said, turning to look at him. “Am I a prisoner after all that? Are you going to _stop_ me?” The way he made it sound--insidious and sinister--disgusted him. Eren had never used that tone with him before, and it made it sound--

“Yeah,” Levi said, and kicked Eren’s legs out from under him. Eren wasn’t expecting it, and he fell face first, eating sand. He turned his head to the side and spit out a mouthful. 

_“Creepy old pervert locks boy in sex dungeon?_ Right? That’s what Armin thought? Didn’t he _warn_ you?”

Painfully he remembered the way Mikasa had looked at him, at their parting, like it was _his_ fault Eren was staying; just what had she told Armin that had sent him hurrying over the ocean, anyway?

“Levi, come on--” Eren said, pushing himself up. 

Levi ignored him, stalking back up to the castle. This whole time. This whole _fucking_ time. This is why he hadn’t, this is why he never had, this is the real reason. 

God, but why did it hurt so fucking much? He hadn’t _done_ anything had he? He knew he hadn’t, but even so he wracked his memory, trying to remember each time they had touched in the nearly two years they’ve been here.

It had never been him. He’d been so _careful_. He could remember all the times Eren had touched him, taken his hands, put an arm around him. He’d never…

And he never would, because this was what sex was; a way to exploit other people, a way to use them, leverage, control, _worse_...

Was that what they’d _all_ thought? When he’d forced himself out of his sickbed, gone to plead for Eren’s life, promised he’d take him away, anywhere...that he was just some old fucking pervert…

 _No,_ he told himself. _They wouldn’t have agreed if they’d thought that…_ But he remembered again the way Mikasa had looked at him, the way Armin had...how they’d all made decisions to get Eren away behind his back. He gazed down at the wounded hand, feeling cold and apart from himself. 

This sort of thing did no good, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like he thought about the scars all the time, but...

A trapdoor opened in his mind, and he thought of his mother. He let himself have that, for a long sad moment before he pulled himself together as much as he could. Because Eren was still a fucking reckless moron, and there would be plenty of time to feel sorry for himself later.

Eren had taken the sailboat apart when he’d stored it, and he was still getting the sail unfurled and putting things back together when Levi came down. 

“I’m going with you.”

“Fine,” Eren said, curt and churlish. He didn’t even _want_ to go now. The wind had started to pick up, and despite what Levi thought he wasn’t a complete idiot; he _knew_ what the edge of his skill was, knew he came up against it a little too often…

But he had something to prove, and so he stubbornly kept on, struggling with the sail and the ropes.

Levi was quiet after that, sitting silent and still in the middle of the boat once they finally got going. Eren tried to ignore him--it was difficult, maddeningly difficult. He knew Levi’s silences well, and if Levi had just been mad or irritated he could have vented his frustration a lot more effectively.

But Levi was just sitting there--silent and closed off--he was holding one hand over the other, almost protectively--

He tried to ignore the guilty lurch his heart gave, swearing under his breath as the wind changed and he had to suddenly throw all his attention into tacking into it. When that was accomplished he sagged in relief, deeply regretting this whole misadventure. 

“Eren,” Levi said behind him. “Eren we need to go back.”

He looked up, and--shit, yeah they did. There were heavy dark stormclouds coming up fast--his heart fell. He looked behind--the _island_ was still there, bathed in sunshine. Why did Levi have to be _right_ about everything. He swore again, doing his best to turn the boat, but it was tough because the wind was picking up. He’d rigged the boat up hastily, and he realized suddenly he hadn’t done it properly. He was trying to fix that, standing up and leaning into the wind when it suddenly changed direction again. The water was really rough now--the boat was bobbing dangerously up and down. Then the sail swung around, and with a solid _whop_ it slammed into him, knocking him into the water. 

For about a quarter of a second of he stood in horror, and then he was moving. He wrapped the end of a long rope quickly around his arm, a dozen times, then he jumped into the water after Eren. It was freezing, but he hardly felt it. The clouds had caught up to them and it was dark, as if it were very late in the afternoon. The gray sea blended into the gray sky and the waves were enormous and choppy. He couldn’t see anything. He kept doggedly on, anyway, yelling Eren’s name when he could, straining to hear anything over the furious rush of the ocean and the storm. 

“Eren!” he yelled, and swallowed a mouthful of water when a wave rolled over him. He coughed and spluttered and tried to swim into the next one, letting it carry him into its peak. He could see for a moment, everything below him, and he thought he caught a glimpse of a pale arm.

He swam for it doggedly, trying to move faster than the water could carry them apart. If it really had been Eren. 

“Eren!” he yelled again; the water picked him up again and he peered around him, as quickly as he could; nothing. No, Eren, no…

“Eren!”

He thought he heard something, but he couldn’t be sure; another wave picking him up, _nothing_.

The cold beat into him. He kept doggedly on. It was even darker, now, the wind was whipping furiously above him. Then--he got a glimpse of dark hair, not even that far from him, and like a shot he flung himself forward, darted his arm out and was rewarded with a fistful of long, dark hair. He _yanked_ \--because the motherfucker deserved it--and then he had an arm around Eren and was hauling them back, hand over hand to the boat. 

“Go!” he yelled at Eren, who was still coughing up water. He grabbed weakly at the side of the boat, and he pulled himself in. Levi hurried after him. Before Eren could even heave himself up from the floor Levi was moving, fixing the rigging and turning them the right way, back to the island. 

When they were close to shore Levi hopped out to drag the boat in. They had been pelted by rain all the way back. He dragged Eren out of the boat, pushing him up towards the house. “Go!” he yelled.

Eren stood there like an idiot, shivering, while Levi hauled the boat up the rest of the way, and began taking the sail down.

“Levi--”

“Go, damn it!”

“Levi, it doesn’t matter, just leave it, please, I’m sorry--”

He turned and hit Eren--not a slap, or a punch, or a shove, but something like it. 

“Go!” he yelled over the noise of the storm. “This is what you risked your life for! This is what’s so important to you!”

Eren stared down, shamefacedly, and without another word he picked himself up and stumbled up the beach. 

Levi finally got the sail down and muttered a curse, then he dragged the boat up a safe distance, beyond the tideline, and flipped it upside down. The rain stung his cheeks and he was shaking from the cold. 

Eren had got the brazier going in the bathroom. The water in the tub wasn’t hot yet, but the room was a little less cold. Eren was still struggling out of his own clothes when Levi came in, shucking his pants and his shirt and his underwear as quickly as he could. He wrapped one of the towels around himself, and then found an extra blanket and wrapped himself in that too. He returned to the bathroom and leaned against the tub--he could feel the warmth rising from it, the pipes beneath them heating up and rumbling as the system got moving.

Eren was wrapped in his own towel, shivering. “You can--” he said, “The water’s almost warm, you can--”

“Don’t be an idiot.” 

“You should--”

“The last thing I need right now is for you to get fucking pneumonia. You were in the water longer than I was.”

Eren stood there for a moment, teeth chattering, then he slid down beside Levi, leaning heavily against him. 

“S-sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up before I punch you,” Levi said, without heat.

Eren got up, after a while and put a hand in the water. “It’s w-warm.”

“Wonderful. What are you waiting for.”

Eren was staring down at him, large-eyed and solemn. He held out a hand. Reluctantly Levi took it, and Eren pulled him gently to his feet.

“G-go.”

“I told you--”

“I will too. F-fair.”

Levi looked away. A bath sounded good. A bath with Eren sounded weird and terrible and exactly the kind of shit he wanted to avoid right now. But before he could think of what to say, Eren was taking his coverings away; had apparently interpreted his silence as acquiescence. 

He stepped into the tub. It was large, but not exactly two-adult-men-large, even if one of those men was undersized. Levi tucked his knees up, and looked away, keeping well away from Eren. It wasn’t as hot as he would have liked, but the brazier would do its work and keep raising the water temperature, without boiling them alive. Probably. So far, at least, it had been remarkably dependable. He ducked his head, rinsing the salt out of his hair, and when he looked up he saw that Eren was watching him, giving him a sad little smile.

“I am sorry.”

Levi blew out an annoyed breath. He wished he’d drop this, but it didn’t seem like he was going to. “Sorry for what?” he said instead, shortly. “Which thing?”

“All of them.”

 _“Now,”_ Levi seethed. “For how long? Until you do the next stupid thing?”

Eren sighed. “Probably.”

They were both quiet a long time. Levi stayed in his little corner of the tub, folded up on himself, preoccupied. He did not look at Eren. He let the water and the heat work their way into him. Outside he could still hear the wind howling, the rain pouring down, but it was muted by the thick stone of the walls. 

He was still cold, like the cold had infected some deep part of himself that would never be warm again. He shivered, and Eren had noticed, _great_.

“Levi,” he said, tenderly, and then he had rearranged them and Levi had to allow himself to be manhandled, with the sick knowledge that this morning he would have enjoyed it.

He turned away from Eren, as much as he could in the tight quarters, and held himself still which was not something he had ever done before when Eren had touched him.

And he could feel--he _knew_ Eren’s body. He didn’t have to look at Eren to know he was surprised and puzzled.

“Levi--”

Everything about this was wrong. 

“Hey--I’ll get rid of the boat. It’s--it was stupid, you were right, I should have listened to you--”

He didn’t say anything. Eren trailed off, Eren was trying to look at him.

Then, with really _admirable fucking perspicacity and terrible timing_ Eren said slowly, “This isn’t about the boat.”

He had an arm around Levi, and he moved his hand up, tracing it over his side, up his shoulder, until it was resting on Levi’s neck. He turned Levi again; they were side by side, and inches away and Eren was looking at him. His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable. He splayed out his hand, tilting Levi’s chin up, and then he leaned forward and closed the distance between them. 

He kissed Levi, pressing in gently, but Levi didn’t resist. Levi melted into him. He felt Eren’s shudder of surprised pleasure down to his bones. Then Eren pulled Levi into his lap, not gentle, splashing water onto the floor. His arm wrapped tight around Levi’s waist, his other hand moving low to fondle Levi’s ass. They were pressed together, chest to belly to crotch, and Levi could feel Eren’s hardness, the rigid length of his cock trapped in between them. Eren kissed him open-mouthed and wide now, licking in. His own arms were wrapped around Eren’s neck and shoulders, his hand tangled up in Eren’s hair.

Eren kissed his face all over, undeterred by his scars. He mouthed the line of his neck (which he liked), his ear (which he didn’t), and when he got more persistent, licking into his ear, Levi yanked free and pushed his head under the water. Eren came up laughing. 

“I was wondering--” he said. “If you would--” He thought this was _very funny_. But the way he looked at Levi was full of fondness and affection, so Levi allowed him to come up, and wrap him in his arms again. It was so good. Closeness and the delicious thrill of sexual desire, and Eren’s warm body wrapped around every part of him. They held each other in the middle of the bathtub, and he heard Eren sigh contentedly. 

“All right,” Eren said finally, prying himself loose. He got up and gathered up the towels. “Come on.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever tried to have sex in a bathtub?”

“No.”

“Well, I have,” Eren said. He wrapped a towel around Levi, and picked him up, against Levi’s protests.

“You’re going to slip--”

“I would never.”

He grumbled, but his room was right there; Eren deposited him on the bed and climbed in after him.

Levi continued to protest. “You’re getting everything wet; you didn’t even dry off properly.”

“Next time we can do it exactly how you want,” Eren told him, in a way that Levi knew was designed to irritate him. He made Levi shift over until he was lying on his back, and then Eren moved on top of him, covering him with his body and lowering his head to kiss him again. 

“There,” Eren said after a while. His voice was low. “Isn’t that better?”

“Yes,” Levi said. 

Eren rubbed against him, pressing them together. His cock was flush with Eren’s, and Eren thrust lazily against him, pressing more heartfelt kisses to his mouth, his neck, his jaw. Eren put his hand in between them, traced the tip of Levi’s cock, ran his hand down to wrap around the base. Pleasure shuddered through him. Eren stroked him, up...down…

He couldn’t do anything except lie there and gasp as Eren touched him. When he opened his eyes he saw Eren looking at him, his expression dark and intent and keenly aroused, something Levi had never seen. He had a sudden understanding that made him flush hot all over. Eren wanted this more than he wanted to get off himself. He closed his eyes again; he couldn’t look at Eren anymore, see anymore. It was already too much. 

He’d thought he’d known what sex was, come by the knowledge too early. He’d understood it through a lens of fear and disgust. 

What this was...this was an act of love, as much as Eren cooking meals for him, coming to wrap a fire-warmed blanket around him on a cold day. As much as sitting together shoulder to shoulder and drinking tea, as much as jumping into a rough and wild ocean to save Eren’s stupid ass once again.

He had only known the selfish part of sex, and he’d thought that had been the whole of it. He hadn’t known the other side, the selfless side, existed. There was no reason for Eren to want to be here with him, to stay here with him, to kiss his scarred and mutilated body, to press their feet together, to put Levi’s pleasure above his own, _except love._

Eren was kissing him hot and fierce, and moving his hand faster against him. His hand, the way he moved, was rougher as Levi started to shudder and convulse, he wrapped his leg around the outside of Eren’s--Eren moaned into his mouth and surged forward, jerking harder until Levi was coming, hot semen spilling over Eren’s hand. It had been so good, his whole body alive in Eren’s arms, and he lay there in a pleasure-soaked daze.

He woke up with Eren wrapped around him, and he blinked a few times, puzzling together the last few hours. He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hmm?” Eren said.

“I feel like I should tell Hanji,” he said. “There’s some bylaw against using prisoners for sexual gratification.”

Eren laughed into his shoulder. “Haven’t you and Hanji actually _tortured_ prisoners…”

Levi dismissed this. “Wartime.”

“Anyway, I’m not a prisoner. I’m free to go at anytime.”

“Free to go drown in the ocean.”

“Mm. Exactly.” He squeezed Levi. “I really am...sorry, for that, you know.”

Levi covered Eren’s hand with his own, the bad one. “Stop doing stupid things.”

Eren sighed. “It is surprisingly difficult.” Then he grabbed Levi and rolled him on top of him. “Not this though,” he said, kissing him. “This was one of my better ideas.”  
He pulled away smiling. “I didn’t think you--” he started to say, and then stopped.

Sometimes, oftentimes, they were remarkably in tune with each other. He was studying Levi’s face again, in a way that Levi was becoming resigned to.

“So,” he said, in a different conversational tone, “I’ve been pretty transparently in love with you since I was fifteen, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that you, hmm, reciprocate some of those feelings, based on recent--”

“Is there a point to this? Or do you just enjoy listening to your own voice?”

Eren held up two fingers, indicating _both!_ and continued, “So I guess, you know, this whole sexual tension thing I’ve been feeling for the last couple of years hasn’t exactly been one-sided…”

Levi shook his head, giving him that. _No._

“So why…” Eren said slowly, and then he stopped again. He reached out to tenderly cup Levi’s face, and Levi closed his eyes. Yes, that he did like.

“This is...about more than me just being a ‘prisoner’ here, huh?” his voice was sweet and full of empathy; without opening his eyes Levi nodded.

He’s known Eren for ten years; that’s longer than any relationship he’s ever had, except for Hanji. Eren knows more about him than anyone. Even if he’s never talked much about his past, Eren’s known him so long he can figure things out by the things he _hasn’t_ said.

“But you don’t want to...talk about it--”

“No.”

“--right now,” Eren grinned unrepentantly, and Levi glowered at him.

“But this--”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t--”

“No.”

“And we don’t have to--”

 _“No,”_ he said fiercely, and Eren laughed and fell back on to the bed, bringing Levi with him.

“Okay,” he said, “Okay. Just...pretend I didn’t say anything.”

He rested his head in the space between Eren’s head and shoulder. 

“Earlier,” Levi said suddenly. “Did you--”

“Oh, uh, no.” He gave Levi a sort of guilty look, and Levi had to repress the urge to laugh. “You--I mean you kind of fell asleep, and then so did I--it was a...busy morning,” he finished lamely. “It’s not a big deal, there’s…”

He shut up; Levi had sprawled on top of him and bent his head down to kiss him. His hand was already wrapped around his half-hard penis.

They missed lunch. It had stopped raining, and Eren was out in the garden, snipping out at a handful of chives. Though it had gotten colder they hadn’t been hit with the first frost yet, and the garden was hardy. Eren came back in with a handful of green stuff.

Levi was heating up potato soup and cooking sausages.

“Would it be suspicious if we asked for more sheets?”

“More sheets?”

“We only have four sets...your two and my two. That’s a lot more laundry...with winter coming…”

Eren snorted. “I was thinking of a _new bed.”_

Levi smiled faintly. “We could push them together.”

Eren stretched out in his chair. “Yeah, I’ll give you good odds on how long that will last.”

“I’m not washing sheets every two days…you might have to reconsider your stance on bathtub sex.”

“It’s all right once in a while,” Eren said, rolling his eyes. “It sort of _limits_ you to certain things. _You_ might have to get used to dirty sheets.”

“Or go back to celibacy.”

Eren sighed. “Fine; standing up only, in front of open windows. Then you don’t have to wash extra sheets. Okay?”

Levi put a bowl of soup in front of him. “Well, maybe we can still do it in the bed, on special occasions.”

When the last of their supplies came in before the long winter started they had a surprise. That morning when they came downstairs, Hanji was sitting in their kitchen drinking tea. “Boys,” she said sternly, “I’ve come to talk to you about the requisitions budget.” She raised her eyebrows. “The wool, and endless vegetables were bad enough. But a _bed?_ What do you need a bed for, Eren? Don’t you have beds? Are you opening a bed and breakfast out here?”

Eren groaned and covered his face. “Levi, help.”

“You are the one that wanted the bed,” Levi said at the stove, pouring tea. “It was your idea.”

“Hanji,” Eren said, “the thing is. Those beds are small. They’re...not sturdy.”

“Sturdy? What is it exactly you are planning on doing with this bed?”

“Calisthenics,” Levi muttered.

“Yes!” Eren agreed. “Calisthenics.”

“What kind of calisthenics?”

“Well, this is very entertaining,” Levi said, putting on his coat. “I can see that you two are enjoying yourselves very much. I am going to feed the goats. I’ll be back in three or four hours.” He left, the kitchen door slamming shut behind him and Hanji and Eren looked at each other for a long time; then Hanji began cackling delightedly, while Eren sat there looking very red.

She stayed for four days. It was a busy time of year--everything had to be done suddenly at once, before the cold got unbearable. They had more _stuff_ this year, more things that needed to be stored and cleaned and moved for the winter. It helped a great deal, having an extra pair of hands; and it meant in the evenings there was more time to play cards and laugh and talk. 

“I’m going to be sorry when you leave,” Eren told her, and meant it.

She grinned at him. “Maybe I’ll retire out here with you two,” she said. “You might be sick of each other by then, be glad of a new face.” He knew she was teasing, so he smiled. “I always thought Levi and I would end up together. No, not like _that,”_ she said, at the look he gave her, “I mean, in old age. Two old lunatics rattling around in a cottage somewhere.”

He smiled. “Yes. I could see that.”

She patted the side of his face affectionately. “Take care of him for me.”

When she was gone he felt peculiarly desolate, in a way he hadn’t in all the time he’d been confined here. He confessed it to Levi, at dinner, and Levi nodded.

“We talked about leaving, while she was here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and me.” Levi motioned in between them. 

Alarmed, Eren said, “But I don’t want--”

Levi half-smiled. “Not that. Not permanently. Like...a vacation.”

“A vacation from our vacation?”

“Yes. Or the others coming here, maybe.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to decide anything right now. We’re stuck here for the winter, anyway. But later…” he shrugged again.

Eren stared down at his plate, his mostly uneaten dinner. “She can’t trust me…”

“She doesn’t. She trusts me.”

Eren’s mind filled with possibilities, about how Levi could be used to manage his behavior; he knew he was blushing, and Levi gave him a critical nod.

“Yes. That, what you’re thinking right now, is exactly what she said to me.”

“Oh, man,” Eren said covering his face, not sure if he was laughing or crying.

“I just hope it was worth it, Eren,” Levi said fatalistically. “I hope getting that bed was worth it to you. You have no idea the things that woman said to me--”

“Well,” Eren said, standing up, his eyes filled with glee, “Let’s go find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very much appreciated, especially in this post-apocalyptic world!


End file.
